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and dissolution, and the maid found them willing to be gathered into order at the arrest of any new object, being weary of the first, of which like leeches they had sucked their fill till they fell down and burst. The weeping woman took her cordial, and was not angry with her maid, and heard the soldier talk. And he was so pleased with the change, that he, who first loved the silence of the sorrow, was more in love with the music of her returning voice, especially which himself had strung and put in tune. And the man began to talk amorously, and the woman's weak head and heart was soon possessed with a little wine, and grew gay, and talked and fell in love; and that very night, in the morning of her passion, in the grave of her husband, in the pomps of mourning, and in her funeral garments, married her new and stranger guest. For so the wild foragers of Lybia, being spent with heat, and dissolved by the two fond kisses of the sun, do melt with their common fires, and die with faintness, and descend with motions slow and unable to the little brooks that descend from heaven in the wilderness; and when they drink, they return into the vigour of a new life, and contract strange marriages; and the lioness is courted by a panther, and she listens to his love, and conceives a monster that all men call unnatural, and the daughter of an equivocal passion and of a sudden refreshment. And so also was it in
the cave at Ephesus: for by this time the soldier be gan to think it was fit he should return to his watch, and observe the dead bodies he had in charge; but when he ascended from his mourning bridal chamber, he found that one of the bodies was stolen by the friends of the dead, and he was fallen into an evil condition, because by the laws of Ephesus, his body was to be fixed in the place of it. The poor man returns to his woman, cries out bitterly, and in her presence resolves to die to prevent his death, and in secret to prevent his shame. But now the woman's love was raging like her former sadness, and, grew witty, and she comforted her soldier, and persuaded him to live, lest by losing him, who had brought her from death and a more grievous sorrow, she should return to her old solemnities of dying, and lose her honour for a dream, or the reputation of her constancy without the change and satisfaction of an enjoyed love. The man would fain have lived, if it had been possible, and she found out this way for him; that he should take the body of her first husband, whose funeral she had so strangely mourned, and put it upon the gallows in place of the stolen thief. He did so, and escaped the present danger, to possess a love which might change as violently as her grief her done. But so have I seen a crowd of disordered people rush violently and in heaps till their utmost border was restrained by a wall, or had
spent the fury of the first fluctuation and watery pro gress, and by and by it returned to the contrary with the same earnestness, only because it was violent and ungoverned. A raging passion is this crowd, which, when it is not under discipline and the conduct of reason, and the proportions of temperate humanity, runs passionately the way it happens, and by and by as greedily to another side, being swayed by its own weight; and driven any whither by chance, in all its pursuits, having no rule but to do all it can, and spend itself in haste, and expire with some shame and much indecency.
The 27th edition of the Holy Living and Dying, has been recently published, Svo. by the Rev. Thomas Thirwall.
Jeremy Taylor possessed a very lively and beautiful fancy, a taste perhaps more chaste than correct. His power of language is unbounded; and we are often pleased with his astonishing fertility, when we are least disposed to sympathize with his opinions. His similies, indeed, are often crowded, and the general effect is dissipated and weakened by a redundance of beauties. The bulk of his works consists of sermons, which few probably would
wish to read, but for the astonishing passages of eloquence which occasionally burst upon the mind. No writer can exceed him in sentimental painting-in awful representation.
WILLIAM LILLY, the famous English astrologer, was born in Leicestershire, in 1602. His parents not being in affluent circumstances, were unable to give their son a liberal education. Having been taught therefore a little writing and arithmetic in the country school of Ashby de la Zouch, he resolved to try his fortune in London, where he arrived in 1620. He first became servant to a mantuamaker, then book-keeper to the master of a salter's company in the Strand, who dying, he was so successful as to marry his widow with a fortune of 10001.
Being now at his ease, he frequented the sermons and lectures of the Puritans; and in 1632, commenced the study of astrology, un-der the tuition of one Evans, a debauched